by Gayle Keo
Tilly gasped. “You got caught? What happened?”
“We were sent home. Word got out and my parents were terribly embarrassed. They sent me away to live with a family member in Canada until it was time for me to marry. They said it was pure luck that anyone was willing to marry me.”
Tilly wanted to hug Faigy, but she also wanted to hear the rest of the story. But it seemed like Faigy was done. She looked off into the distance, where a father and son played.
“I like you too, Tilly. Ever since I first saw you, there was just something about you. You make me feel safe. I haven’t ever felt this way before.”
Tilly didn’t know what to say so she stayed quiet. She did take Faigy’s hand into her own and squeezed it.
“Do you think you’ll ever wear pants?” Tilly asked.
Faigy erupted into a fit of laugher. “I’m not sure. Possibly. You’d have to help me find good pants.”
“I’ll help you find good pants,” Tilly said.
They remained at Millennium Park for a while longer until Faigy announced she was hungry and then went in search of a kosher restaurant.
*****
The next day, Tilly borrowed April and Deena’s car and made the trip to her mom’s house with Faigy. It was almost 2pm when they arrived and Tilly knew her mom would have food waiting but she worried about Faigywho only ate kosher food.
“Don’t worry about me,” Faigy said.
Rebecca was in the kitchen when Tilly and Faigy walked in. Her smile faltered a little and she tilted her head in confusion.
“You didn’t tell me you were bringing company, Tilly.”
Tilly shrugged. “It was a last minute thing. Mom, this is Faigy. Faigy, this is my mom.”
“Hello,” Faigy said with a smile. She held out her hand to shake Rebecca’s.
“Hi,” Rebecca said. “Nice to meet you, Faigy. My name is Rebecca but everyone calls me Becca. You can call me whatever you like.”
“You all love nicknames,” Faigy joked.
“Huh?” Rebecca said.
“People call Matilda, Tilly and you Becca. I like full names. So Matilda is Matilda. You will be Rebecca.”
Tilly choked on her laughter.
“She’s a feisty one,” Rebecca said with a smirk. “Are you guys hungry? I made lunch.”
“Faigy is Jewish and only eats kosher food,” Tilly informed her mom.
“Not anymore. I’m starving and would love to eat,” Faigy said.
Tilly was more than surprised at this sudden change. When they sat down at the table, she saw the unease in Faigy’s face about eating the food in front of her. When Faigy looked up, Tilly gave her a reassuring smile, which Faigy returned.
“I understand if you don’t want to eat it,” Rebecca said. “I take no offense to you wanting kosher food. But I have none here.”
Faigy pushed the plate of food away. “Thank you for being so understanding. Do you maybe have any fruit? Fruit is kosher.”
Rebecca clapped her hand enthusiastically. “I have a bunch of fruit. Grapes, strawberries, watermelon, cherries, cantaloupe, pomegranate, dragon fruit, take your pick. All are organic, too. I also have different kinds of cheeses. Can you eat cheese or do they have to be kosher, too?”
Faigy and Rebecca disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Tilly alone in the dining room. She was happy her mother and Faigy were getting along. In fact, everyone in Tilly’s life seemed to like Faigy. Tilly took it as a good sign. Maybe she and Faigy were truly meant to be together.
After a three-hour visit, Tilly and Faigy said their goodbyes to Rebecca.
“I’ll come see you again before we leave. I’m here for a week,” Tilly said.
In the car ride back to Chicago, Faigy put forth a request that made Tilly stop the car on the side of the highway.
“You want to get a hotel room?” Tilly asked, making sure she heard correctly.
“Yes. I really do like Deena and April and Lana but I want to be alone with you at night.”
Tilly bit her lip. She hoped Faigy wanted to be alone because she wanted to have sex. Tilly was incredibly horny lately and she wanted to wait until Faigy was comfortable to move forward, but the wait was killing her.
“Okay, we’ll get a hotel room,” Tilly said. She handed Tilly her phone and taught her how to use it and search the internet. By the time they arrived back in Chicago, they had a hotel room waiting for them. April and Deena understood Faigy and Tilly’s need for privacy and made kissy noises as the women left the apartment with their bags.
The hotel room was simple, but nice. There were a couple kosher food places within walking distance for Faigy.
“Are you as tired as I am?” Tilly asked Faigy. She collapsed on the bed and rolled over to her side.
“You’re always tired,” Faigy said. “But you have a reason. I’m going to shower.”
Tilly dozed off while Faigy showered. When the bathroom door opened, Tilly jolted away. Out of the bathroom came a naked Faigy, still dripping wet.
“Am I good enough for you?” Faigy asked nervously.
“You are perfect,” Tilly said. “Are you sure you want this?”
Faigy nodded and crossed the room to Tilly. Tilly stood and placed her lips against Faigy’s in a gentle kiss. Once Faigy got the hand of it, Tilly deepened the kiss. She moaned into Faigy’s mouth and Faigy did the same.
“You are the first person that I’ve kissed since I was fifteen,” Faigy said breathlessly.
“What about your husband?” Tilly asked.
“We never kissed.”
Tilly leaned in and kissed Faigy again. She turned so that she could gently push Faigy back onto the bed and ran her hands from Faigy’s neck to her plump breasts. Tilly broke the kiss and moved downward, taking one of Faigy’s pink, erect nipples into her mouth.
“Oh,” Faigy moaned, arching her back.
Tilly moved over to the other nipple and took it into her mouth, sucking it and swirling her tongue around it. Satisfied that Faigy was hot and ready, Tilly continued her descent. She loved the hair on Faigy’s pussy and reminded herself to tell Faigy to never shave or wax it off.
“Don’t hurt me,” Faigy whispered from above.
“I will never hurt you,” Tilly said, “trust me.” She took Faigy’s clit into her mouth and licked it with the pad of her tongue. Faigy went into a frenzy, gripping Tilly’s head and wrapping her legs around Tilly.
Despite all of this, Tilly continued her exploration of Faigy’s pussy. She used her tongue to part the lips and opened her eyes to watch Faigy’s reaction as she had what was probably her first orgasm.
Faigy’s eyes squeezed shut and her mouth was open in a silent scream. But soon the scream wasn’t silent at all and Tilly was sure the people staying in the surrounding rooms heard. But she didn’t care. Faigy’s release was the only thing Tilly had in mind.
“That was—I don’t know what to say,” Faigy said when she could talk properly. “I’ve never done that before.”
“Had an orgasm?” Tilly asked.
“Orgasm? Was that what it was? Yes, I’ve never done it.”
Tilly couldn’t wait to explore with Faigy. She didn’t care about the sex being reciprocated. She enjoyed seeing the pleasure on Faigy’s face. She enjoyed watching Faigy learn new things that had been denied to her. Tilly hoped their relationship lasted because she was falling in love quickly. She couldn’t see herself with anyone else but Faigy, and she didn’t want Faigy to be with anyone else. As Tilly drifted off to sleep, she dreamed of the sleeping woman she held in her arms.
*****
“How’s it feel to be a whole year older?” Faigy asked as she snuggled closer to Tilly. A heavy wool blanket covered their legs and they watched the passing people as their horse-drawn carriage slowly made its way through Central Park.
“I feel old,” Tilly said with a dramatic sigh.
“You’re not old.”
Tilly frowned. “You just called me old, though.”
Faigy laughed and kissed Tilly on the lips. The past year had been one full of ups and downs. Faigy had briefly returned to Williamsburg during a moment of weakness but when people refused to talk to her, she learned first-hand the effects of leaving and finally left for good. Marriage had been brought up but both decided it was much too early to even think about it. They planned to be together for a long time and marriage would come when it was time.
“Where are we going after this?” Tilly asked.
“To eat, of course. It’s a surprise,” Faigy replied. She had planned Tilly’s birthday night celebration and, so far, it was going off without a hitch, but she knew that with Tilly’s career, she could be called away at a moment’s notice.
“I don’t really like surprises,” Tilly protested.
“Bullshit.”
Tilly giggled. She loved hearing Faigy curse, especially since Faigy still had an accent and the curse words came out funnier than they should.
“I am allergic to certain foods, though. Remember?” Tilly asked as the carriage made its way back onto Fifth Avenue. She really didn’t like the carriages and thought it was cruel to make the horses stand in New York City traffic but Faigy begged and Tilly gave in. She wouldn’t do it again, though.
Faigy sighed. “Yes, I know what you are allergic to. Don’t worry.”
They stepped out of the carriage and Faigy held Tilly’s hand as they walked down Fifth Avenue to their next destination.
In a city of eight million people, it was a miracle they had met each other. For the first time in her life, Tilly could say with absolute certainty that she was happy. As she and Faigy disappeared into a throng of people, Tilly smiled. She knew how easy it was to get lost in New York. But she also knew that no matter how lost she got, she would always have Faigy to help get her home.
THE END
Another bonus story is on the next page.
Bonus Story 8 of 36
Mistress Vanessa's Pets Episode 1
Marla loved the sound of coffee percolating. With each new gurgle, the aroma wafted through the kitchen giving the morning a sense of newness and freshness. She remembered the day she had found the antique in a high cupboard. Neither Jason nor Laird knew what to make of the thing and so she demonstrated.
“You fill the pot with water,” she said. “Then you put the grounds in this basket, see. Then you set it on the stove to boil. And you just keep watching that little bubble on top until it’s the color you want, and there you go.”
Laird pondered a moment, and then said, “But the coffee maker over there will produce the precise blend and flavor that you want almost instantly.”
“Yeah, but it’s not as much fun,” Marla said.
“I will never quite understand why humans are so enamored of manual labor.”
“Sometimes,” Jason put in, “how you make something can be a satisfying as what you make.”
“Percolated coffee, for example,” Laird asked.
“Let megive you another example,” Jason said with a smirk. “The other day I read where the Swiss just invented a machine that’ll give you a long, slow orgasm; no muss, no fuss and you don’t have to gohome in the cold.”
“I don’t understand your analogy,” Laid said.
Marla giggled. Jason smiled. And so right there on the kitchen floor the two demonstrated the difference to the alien Hroth. That morning the coffee burned.
Marla chuckled to herself at that memory. She poured her first cup and looked out to the bright summer morning. The air was still and the day promised to be another warm one. She missed air-conditioning, but that was a small price to pay for living away from the troubles of the world.
Laird was off studying birds again. She had no idea where Jason was. He had mentioned something the night before about going into town to get some chicken feed and had left before she woke. No matter, he’d be home when he was hungry.
“Morning Marla,” a voice called from the porch. “Happy Garbage Day.”
“Janet!” Marla said with a smile. “Is it Thursday already?”
Janet opened the screen door and strode into the kitchen. Her postal uniform was clean and crisp and despite the unflattering shorts and shirt, the woman still looked lovely. Marla though that she could wear a hospital gown and be alluring. Janet carried a bundle of mail wrapped with thick rubber bands.
“Something came up,” Janet said, “so I’m a day early this week.”
“Come in. Sit. Coffee?”
“Thanks kindly.”
Janet sat and Marla poured her a cup.
“So what have you got for us today?” she asked.
“The usual.”
They never got real mail at the old farmhouse. Anyone who knew where they were used wave-mail or texts, and so anything that came by post was trash. Janet knew that the junk mail never made it into the house and so would hold it all in piles for them, and then deliver a week’s worth on what she called Garbage Day. She had the mail sorted into categories; grocery flyers, insurance offers, store sales and the like. She also took care to make special bundles for the hardware and lingerie catalogs. Marla sat with her coffee and snatched up the latest Lovely in Lace.
“Do you think,” she said leafing through, “that these girls actually exist? I mean they’re so perfect, they have to be computer generated or something.”
“I don’t know,” Janet said. “They probably work on ‘em a lot, the pic I mean. But there’s plenty of beautiful girls out there. I mean look at you, you may be petite but you fill a bra nicely.”
“Are you hitting on me again?”
“Kinda.”
“What would Rachael say?”
“She wouldn’t say anything,” Janet said with a grin. “She would smile and—“
“I get it. Maybe someday. But look at this . . . can you believe the price?”
“Um, Marla?”
Marla looked up. There was a strange look on Janet’s face.
“There’s also this,” the woman said handing Marla an envelope.
It was small, maybe half the size of a greeting card, pink and the address was written in an elegant flowery hand. Taking it up Marla smelled roses.
“There’s – there’s no return address,” Marla said. “Who’s it from?”
“Dunno,” Janet said with a shrug. “It was in my pile this morning. I thought that you’d want it, so I came a day early.”
“What is it?”
Janet looked at her flatly. Marla looked the letter. It was delicate and feminine, but there was something different about it, something that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She started to tear into the pretty thing, but she thought that such an elegant envelop wanted a proper opening. She slit it open with a steak knife and as she did the scent of roses wafted stronger. Inside was a neatly folded slip of paper. Marla opened it and read;
Mistress Vanessa Kitteredge requests the honor to call on Dr. Marla Alyona Navarro on Thursday at 2:00 o’clock in the afternoon.
Marla read the thing twice. Her guard went up immediately. Thursday was tomorrow.
“Who is Mistress Vanessa Kitteredge?” Marla asked.
“Dunno,” Janet said leafing through the sleepwear section. “That name, Kitteredge … that’s an old Yankee name. From Maine I think. Isn’t there a Kitteredge bank or something?”
Marla shrugged.
“What is it?” Janet asked.
“It’s an invitation,” Marla answered. “Sort of.”
“Okay. Anyhow it’s your business. But would you look at this peignoir set. I love purple.”
Over the next cup of coffee, the two paged through the catalogs and chatted as women will do. But all the while Marla had an uneasy feeling.
*****
She spent the morning on-line researching the Kitteredge family. Janet was right, the family was from Maine and was old; they pre-dated the Revolution. She was also right about their being in banking and finance, but they were so small. Their main office was in Rumford, ov
er an hour north of Augusta. They had a few branches here and there including one in Berlin and one in Columbia, New Hampshire, both a fair bit of a drive from her farm in Jackson. But the bank was not listed on any exchange that she could find.
The family history took some digging, and even then there wasn’t much. Unlike most old New Englanders, there were few who joined the military, and of those who did, there were none of any real distinction. The Kitteredge Bank seemed content to finance local farmers and manufacturers and not much else. Nowhere could she find a reference to a Vanessa; Mistress, Miss or Mrs.
“You seem intense,” Laird said.
“This is so weird,” she said turning to him. “I just got this – Laird! You’re naked.”
Her alien lover stood in the doorway to the study, sheened with sweat and without a stitch of clothes. His face was stern, sculpted with distinct almost Aryan lines that defined the bone structure, as if his skin had been stretched just that tight. His narrow green eyes were set deep and the thin whisps of eyebrows looked almost penciled on. His straight, dark hair brushed his shoulders. His body was lean but muscled in ways that were not quite right and yet not quite wrong, and his deep chocolate skin gleamed where those strange muscles bulged, and where they sank there was a dark contrast.
But what had always made Marla pause was that the Hroth had nothing visible ‘down there’. At his crotch and between that pronounced thigh gap there was nothing, not even pubic hair. The brown flesh ran smoothly from his belly down and around to his backside, showing no hint of any sex organ.
“It’s a hot day,” he said. “And yes, I remember what you’ve said about human propriety. I am careful. Your letter carrier is really the only one who ever treks up this far and I saw her. And more to the point she did not see me so you can relax.”